


Etching

by Maia_Nebula



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: A rather permanent one, Angst galore but it ends well, Cyrus is devastated, Cyrus' mom is wonderful, He fears TJ won't be buried in a Jewish cemetery because of it, M/M, Second-year anniversary, TJ makes a mistake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 00:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20073325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maia_Nebula/pseuds/Maia_Nebula
Summary: The reaction was immediate. Tragically, it wasn’t the reaction TJ had been hoping for.And now Cyrus sobs were threatening to break his heart. Or maybe they had done it already? Yes, they had, when Cyrus had uttered those three words.





	Etching

**Author's Note:**

> So, it seems I like writing about stuff I’m not really familiar with (sorry), and that apparently includes writing about Judaism. I really hope I don’t upset anyone because I’ve tried to be as respectful as possible, though all the information I have on the subject comes from the internet. The internet doesn’t say much about Jewish afterlife and eternal separation, though...  
Also, I’m a Baptist that has secretly gotten 5 tattoos, so having loved ones react badly to them sometimes worries me. As a result, this fic was born. Yay!  
(Btw, this fic is set in the same universe as "Sinking", but you don't have to read that one for this one to make sense.)

The reaction was immediate. Tragically, it wasn’t the reaction TJ had been hoping for…

He knew he didn’t really know what they were. It’d been two years of holding hands and bro hugs, and maybe a couple of normal hugs, too, but they had never really said they were anything in particular. And that was why he hadn’t told his parents anything about them during the past twenty-four months, however close he’d been to doing so every time they asked him why he grinned like an idiot while daydreaming.

He knew Cyrus hadn’t told his parents either, although he thought they suspected something, if being forbidden in both houses from being alone upstairs was anything to go by. Unfortunately, that resulted in him sitting with a devastated Cyrus in the living room when his mom was about to finish up with her last patient.

Maybe he’d assumed too much. However, it was a rather permanent mistake, and there wasn’t much he could do about it at the moment. After all, he’d just gotten it and he didn’t think they’d be able to remove it without letting it heal first… And to think he’d been so excited to show it to Cyrus that it had taken him less time than usual to ride his bike all the way to Cyrus’ mom’s home…

And now Cyrus sobs were threatening to break his heart. Or maybe they had done it already? Yes, they had, when Cyrus had uttered those three words.

What was he supposed to think, though? Surely those words could be interpreted in more ways than one?

No, no, they couldn’t. The agonizing cry with which Cyrus had uttered them left no space for doubt.

And then he heard footsteps, at first normal-paced, then hurried. Cyrus’ mom was coming, and he had no idea what to tell her.  
“Cyrus?” She asked, concerned, as soon as she turned the corner and came into the room. But Cyrus didn’t seem aware of her presence when he finally looked at TJ.

TJ had never seen him like this. Before he could react, Cyrus pushed him with both hands and started screaming at him. It took TJ a moment to make out the words, but they were the same three he had yelled at him before breaking down.  
“_How could you?_”

And TJ fell off the couch, sprawled on the floor, as Cyrus took hold of his hoodie and kept shoving him, almost punching him in the chest in the process.  
“_How could you?_” He kept screaming, as TJ tried to get Cyrus off of him.

And, with Cyrus’ mom also trying to pull him off of TJ and Cyrus’ stepdad appearing out of nowhere, TJ was suddenly free, but Cyrus kept trying to get at him, still screaming.  
“TJ, go,” Cyrus’ mom told him as she helped him up and pushed him towards the door, but he was shell-shocked and couldn’t move. “TJ,” she insisted, “go!”

And he stepped out into the night and rode his bike home.

\---

It was spring break, so school was out, which made it impossible for TJ to talk to Cyrus face-to-face on neutral ground, and Cyrus wasn’t replying to his messages, either. TJ also tried calling him, but Cyrus didn’t pick up, and he had to admit they meant much less to each other than he thought they did because he didn’t even have Cyrus’ homes’ phone numbers.

He wouldn’t give up, though, so he asked his dad to drive him to Cyrus’ mom’s house. He knew she would have ended her sessions already, and he trusted she would talk to him even if Cyrus wouldn’t, because Cyrus’ streak of kindness came from her.

Since his dad was used to him being over at Cyrus’ fairly often, he didn’t ask any questions, talking instead of the year’s basketball season with TJ. TJ silently thanked him for it, as it helped him calm down.

And then he was dropped off and he was nervous again, ringing the doorbell. Cyrus’ mom opened the door.

She seemed surprised to see him but she allowed him in all the same. Not really sure of what to do, he just followed her into the kitchen, where she was apparently preparing some kind of stew.

It was easy to see why she was a good psychologist: she didn’t say anything after “come on in”, leaving the ball in TJ’s court. He still frowned at her silence as she continued chopping vegetables.  
“Is Cyrus home?”

She looked at him and nodded.  
“He might not want to see you, though. Would you like me to tell him you’re here anyway?”

TJ felt his heart shrivel.  
“He doesn’t want to see me?”  
“He hasn’t said so, but, atypically, he hasn’t said anything else about you either.”

TJ nodded and lowered his gaze, his eyes watering. He had made a horrible mistake. Then again, it was a classic TJ move: anything good, he had to ruin it.  
“TJ,” Cyrus’ mom started, slightly distressed. “What happened the other night?”

TJ was surprised Cyrus hadn’t told her. He himself was at a loss of what had happened.  
“I’m not sure. I… I did something and told him about it and he… well… you saw him.”

She washed her hands and dried them on a colorful dishcloth. The dreaded silence engulfed them again, but, thankfully, not for long.  
“It took a couple of hours for him to calm down, and even today he’s been crying on and off.” She frowned at him. “I understand that this is between you two but, as his mom, I’m extremely worried. This thing you did, was it serious?”

TJ didn’t mean to shrug, but he did. To make up for it, he looked at her.  
“I – I don’t know. I mean, going by his reaction, yeah. But it doesn’t seem like that to me.”  
“Ok.” She let out a breath. “Do you think you can tell me what it was?”

Oh, no, no, he couldn’t. He stared at her, petrified.  
“It’s ok, it’s ok, don’t worry,” she then said, bracing herself against the stove.

He thought it couldn’t, but his heart shriveled further at this. Now he was hurting not only Cyrus, but Cyrus’ mom, too, thanks to a stupid decision he should have consulted with Cyrus in the first place. He had wanted it to be some sort of second anniversary surprise, though, and that had led to this whole mess. Seriously, what had he done?

But he could stop the hurt, and he wanted to, even though it meant outing himself and Cyrus, so he walked closer to Cyrus’ mom and slowly lifted his t-shirt. She looked at him quizzically, and then at his side, where an abstract watercolor heart had been tattooed, with the initials “TJ CG” inside.

She gasped, and the hand holding up his t-shirt started trembling. He hoped that at least this time he’d made the right choice.

Tentatively, Cyrus’ mom ran a finger over it, concentrating on the letters.  
“You did this for Cyrus?” She sounded choked up.

He nodded, and she raised her eyes to meet his, taking his hand gently and lowering his t-shirt.  
“Does he like you back?”

TJ’s watery laugh resonated in the kitchen, even though a pot of boiling water had been bubbling loudly for a couple of minutes already and they’d been ignoring it.  
“We’ve kinda been together for two years.”

She forrowed her brows.  
“‘Kinda’?”

TJ gave her a forced smile as he answered.  
“Hugs, handholding, that’s all we’ve done. But I truly thought we were more than what we apparently are. And, totally misinterpreting the situation, I made a stupid decision about a rather permanent type of body art.”

She looked at him sadly, placing her hand under his arm, on top of his t-shirt-covered tattoo. His heart sped up.  
“TJ, you’re only 16. Who even signed for you to get this?”  
“A friend of mine.”  
“Shouldn’t it have been a parent or guardian?”  
“Yeah.” He added sheepishly, “he’s much older than me.”

She rolled her eyes and looked at him again, letting her hand fall by her side. TJ missed its warmth immediately.  
“I think I know why Cyrus might be upset.”  
“Yeah?” He asked her, starting to feel hope that someone might explain what was going on.  
“Yeah,” she replied, “but you should hear it from him. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”

Hope turned into anxiousness. Cyrus wouldn’t see him, he just wouldn’t, he knew it. A couple of minutes later, Cyrus’ mom confirmed it when she came back down.

Tears welled in his eyes again. As he closed them, he felt arms encircling him and he leaned into them, unable to return the hug but not wanting to reject it either. Her perfume was soft and flowery, and he felt immensely loved with the gesture. He wondered if she hugged her patients, too. He hoped she didn’t: that’d mean he was special.

But, special or not, he was quietly crying his heart out while embraced by Cyrus’ mother in the middle of a kitchen where water had been boiling for so long that the air was warm and humid and the pot might as well be melting, completely dry. So he gathered himself and, after a small cough, he stepped back and dried his tears with his hands. She was looking at him sympathetically.  
“I respect Cyrus’ privacy a lot, and his feelings,” she said, “but I’ll make an exception just this once. Come with me.”

And, in a daze, he followed her upstairs. She hugged him again when they reached Cyrus’ door, and then headed downstairs, presumably to finish the stew.

His knuckles rapped the door on autopilot, but he didn’t expect an answer, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get one. Taking a deep breath, he walked in.

Cyrus was bundled in his blankets, curled up in bed, his back to the door, breathing slowly. For a minute there, TJ thought he was sleeping, but then he heard sniffling and he stepped closer. His shadow apparently alerted Cyrus to his presence.

At once TJ tried to pacify him, but Cyrus was weeping again, burying his head in his hands as he sat up. TJ wondered how many more times his heart could break.  
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He really hoped Cyrus could hear him over his crying. “I really am. I love you and I thought I could show it this way, and I’ll add this to the ‘list of stupidest decisions I’ve ever made’.” He swallowed thickly. “And I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much pain. But I don’t understand why you’ve reacted the way you have; I don’t understand what it means.” He felt himself close to tears. “Does it mean I misread things and you don’t–”

Still covering his face, Cyrus shook his head vigorously. He was saying something under his breath, but TJ couldn’t hear it, so he bent over.

And then Cyrus looked at him and they were too close. Cyrus didn’t seem to mind as he pulled him into a hug.

The 180 made TJ feel almost dizzy with relief, so he sat down on the edge of the bed. Hugging meant they were ok, right? Right?  
“I love you, too,” Cyrus sobbed, “but this means we won’t be together.”

TJ’s heart broke, and he was sure this would be the last time it did. His body seemed to know it, too, as he started shaking uncontrollably.  
“What?” was all he managed to say.

Cyrus moved back to look at him, reddened brown eyes looking into reddened green ones.  
“I’m Jewish, Teej.”

TJ knew that. What he didn’t know is why it mattered.  
“You shall not make gashes in your flesh for a dead person; you shall not etch a tattoo on yourselves. I am the Lord.” Cyrus recited. TJ frowned: this was not clearing it up. Cyrus seemed to notice he was confused and sighed, letting go of TJ to run his hands over his cheeks and eyes. “I love you,” he repeated, “and I had built up our relationship in my head.”

His voice breaking, tears started running down his face again. TJ wanted to hug him but thought he might no longer be allowed to.  
“And I had this idea of us getting married and growing old together–”  
“But we still can!” TJ interrupted. His voice then became quieter. “Can’t we?”  
“Yeah, we can.” Cyrus answered, despondently.  
“But then what’s wrong?”

Cyrus let out a shaky breath, apparently trying to calm himself down.  
“I wanted us to be together forever, and I thought, quite stupidly, that maybe one day you’d convert to Judaism–”  
“I can! I will!”  
“No, TJ, you don’t get it.” Cyrus replied, his voice watery. “You shall not etch a tattoo on yourselves.”

TJ frowned again, exasperated.  
“Cyrus, what does that even mean?”  
“We won’t be buried together.”

TJ had no idea why Cyrus was thinking about such a thing, but Cyrus’ eyes were boring into his and he didn’t want to make another mistake. So he tried to be gentle when he spoke again.  
“But we will be able to live all our lives together, won’t we?”

Cyrus moved forward and rested his forehead on TJ’s shoulder.  
“Not forever.”

TJ tried to look at Cyrus, but the angle was off, so he ended up looking at the side of his head.  
“I don’t know what to say.”  
“Just…say you love me again.”

His reply was instantaneous.  
“I love you, Cyrus.”

\---

It smelled delicious when he finally walked downstairs, and he found himself going to the kitchen again.  
“Cyrus thinks we won’t be buried together,” he blurted out as soon as he saw Cyrus’ mom.  
“That’s what I imagined,” she sighed.  
“But I don’t get why it’s so important. He says he loves me and that we can spend our lives together. Why does it matter where we are buried?”

She smiled unhappily and led him to the kitchen table, motioning him to sit down.  
“It matters to us, TJ, because, as Jews, we believe in the eternity of the soul,” she explained.

Taking one of TJ’s hands in hers, she continued.  
“I know that it might be a weird concept for a non-Jew, but we look forward to being buried in a Jewish cemetery because the idea is for us to be united with our people in death as in life. Non-Jews and those who have gone against our faith aren’t be buried in them, which means that he’d have to be buried in a non-Jewish cemetery to be with you, separated forever from all of us, or that he’d have to be buried with us, knowing he’d be separated from you. It seems he’d rather pick the latter, and that’s why he’s hurting.”

TJ didn’t believe in an afterlife, but he could kinda see how this would upset Cyrus. What he didn’t understand was his obsession with them dying.  
“Ok, forever is a long time to be apart, but can’t we just enjoy this life? Why think about that now?”

Cyrus’ mom lowered her gaze and caressed his fingers.  
“Ever since – since Cyrus tried to…” _To kill himself_, TJ’s mind supplied. TJ felt his lips turning downwards and she smiled sadly again. “Since then, he’s been fixated on what happens when someone…” She swallowed, but didn’t complete the sentence. “Our rabbi said he wouldn’t be buried with us if he actually did it, so I can understand him because I worry about the same thing: I don’t want to lose him forever, just as he doesn’t want to lose you.”

She sounded heavy-hearted, but TJ didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he raised his other hand to cover hers. She looked at him.  
“But your case is different,” she said softly, “so I’d like to ask our rabbi about tattoos, to know if they really break our laws, as I’ve heard people say. Would you be ok with that?”

TJ nodded heartily. Then she invited him to stay for dinner, but he decided to ignore how good the stew smelled, thanked her for everything and walked home.

\---

Cyrus’ mom had his number and called him after she, true to her word, spoke to their rabbi that Saturday. He’d told her that nothing in the Tanakh, the Talmud or the Midrash prohibited a tattooed Jew from being interred in a Jewish cemetery, which made TJ ecstatic because, though he had no idea what any of those three were, this meant Cyrus’ fears had been unfounded and that they could be together for eternity, if such a thing existed.  
“Does Cyrus know?”  
“I told him,” she answered. TJ could hear her grinning on the other side of the line. “He’s on his way to your house as we speak.”

TJ thanked her and ended the call, running downstairs. When he reached the last step, the doorbell rang.

He had never been happier to open a door than he was at that moment, and it seemed Cyrus had never been happier for a door to open than right then, because he threw his arms around TJ’s neck and kissed him.

It was brief, but it made TJ feel warm all over, and he held onto Cyrus with a smile.  
“I’ll get one just like yours as soon as soon as I turn 16,” Cyrus declared, before pulling him down for another kiss.

TJ broke away and laughed.  
“Your _four parents_ won’t let you.”  
“You still friends with Jeremy?”  
“He’s blond and green-eyed! He’d never pass for your dad!”  
“I’ll get someone else then.” Cyrus kissed him again and moved his hand under TJ’s t-shirt, placing it on top of his tattoo. TJ felt warm again.  
“I love you.” He said, his smile broadening.  
“I love you, too,” Cyrus replied, tracing the watercolor heart with his hand.


End file.
